San Quentin, Havana Bridge vertigo The other day I was in Santander and went, as always, to see my friend Rodolfo San Quentin to the library, with its muted green and red façade, so northern.
I like to talk to him about books, and mutual friends, and time. Go time, by the way!
remember he was the one, two or three summers ago, I recommended that we
Oblivion, Hector Abad Faciolince. One of the books that most impressed me, and touched, and since then more have recommended, given, lent, and I talked a long time in this blog
.
The other day, as we chatted, I found there a title that the library had long been looking for Persona non grata
, Jorge Edwards. A book that recounts his experience as ambassador to Cuba Castro Allende in the seventies. The
impossible to harvest 10 million, the Padilla case, the blockade and Diplomercados
in which only foreigners could buy.
I enjoyed reading of Lezama, there in his house at Trocadero, a low-floor balcony that went all the young poets then, almost on a pilgrimage, with his books-the Alejo Carpentier czar called it "books, which gave Paris boxes of cigars to Sartre and Gabo, as a gift revolutionary, Che, with his olive green suit, studded boots, and his beret, which he immortalized Korda in the famous photo of the year sixty, an Icon.
I'm enjoying this journey through time, then to the Cold War, the Prague Spring, the Russian jets Cubana Ilushin, officials of State Security in the hotel watching ideological deviations, and Lezama, street Trocadero, still in disbelief, smoking.
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